Living A Miracle
by Peppered Potato
Summary: Humanstuck, high school AU. Travis Martinez is a fifteen-year-old boy who recently ran away from home. Alone, starving, and with no hope left, he's given up. That is, until a group of teens finds him on the brink of death. And then suddenly everything begins to change. PB&J, multiple pairings. M for foulmouthedness and potential future chapters. Not my image.
1. Loss and Gain

_A/N: Just a quickie note before the story starts: Because this is a human!AU, Tavros doesn't get called Tavros for a while (since no one would have a name like that in an average place in the US of A. So he'll be referred to as "Travis" until the name "Tavros" is gifted to him. You'll see. Enjoy!_

* * *

**1 - Loss and Gain**

* * *

_Cold._

_Everything was cold. He was vaguely aware there was snow on the ground around him, white and very wet, but he could barely feel it. He knew it was cold because it didn't melt. He knew it was cold because passerby's breaths were coming out in cloudy white puffs._

_But his breath wasn't like theirs. His was shallow, without warmth. No steam, just air._

_He couldn't feel his body anymore. It was almost warmer that way. But he couldn't shake the numbness of his hands and feet. What ratty clothes he had on what no use against the blustery winter weather. Especially his feet. There was something wrong, but he didn't have the energy to peel off his shoes to see._

_People walked by, completely unaware of him sitting in the shadow of a building. His legs, which were sticking out of the shadows, almost tripped a man; he did no more than swear loudly and glare at him before going off to wherever it was he was going. It didn't bother him too much, that man's reaction. Most people treated him coldly anyway._

_He closed his eyes. He began to think back about his life. It had never been the best one, but it was happy for the most part. He focused on the early days, before he'd left. All the happy, innocent days. Where had they gone?_

_He could see his mother, cooking something in the kitchen, his father coming home after a long day of work, his brothers and sisters sitting around the table. He could see his old room, with the many children's books and movies lining the shelves, lovingly worn, his computer, the multiple stuffed animals piled onto his bed, some odd collection of CDs stacked against the far wall by the ancient heater. That was all in the past now. A past he'd willingly given up. But he didn't want to dwell on those thoughts._

_His eyes opened, taking in the city lights. They were almost beautiful, in an eerie sort of way. Washing the concrete with orangy-gold. He'd always liked orange. And brown. People made fun of him because he liked brown. Then again, people always made fun of him._

_He frowned, eyes shutting. He didn't want to think about that now. Right now, he wanted to sleep. Everything was so heavy: the air, the light, the passing voices, the memories. So very heavy, like a blanket._

_Maybe it was better to just sleep._

_Then someone tripped over him for real. He barely felt it, save the slight tugging feeling as his whole body shifted lower by a few inches._

_"Dammit," cursed the voice of the person who presumably tripped over him. "Didn't see the fucking hobo there!"_

_A second voice laughed. "Now best friend, that's not a very nice thing to say. Poor guy must be up and motherfuckin' frozen in this weather."_

_The voice sounded friendly, yet deep and resonating. Husky. Powerful. He, despite himself, smiled._

_The voice continued. "Here bro, a few dollars is all I can spare, but it should get you a meal at that motherfuckin' MikkyD's on the corner there."_

_He wanted to tell the man that there was no need for that, that he wasn't even hungry. Yet he couldn't move. It seemed like a bit of waste of energy. He had none left. The effort wasn't worth it._

_The voice sounded concerned."You okay there, bro?"_

_'Yes,' he wanted to say, but no sound came. His lips felt so heavy, like the rest of his body. Instead, he managed only to flop his head to one side._

_"Dude, is he even breathing?"_

_He felt hands on the side of his face, tilting his face up by the chin. "Bro, ya with me? Can you open your eyes?"_

_He tried-truly, he did-but they would barely flutter. Why bother?_

_The hands that held him were searing. The heat was uncomfortable, yet he couldn't pull away. Instead a weak sound made it out of the back of his throat. It sounded pretty pitiful, even to him._

_More voices, a clamor of them. A group._

_"What's going on, KK? Who is that?"_

_"It looks like some homeless boy. He looks so young."_

_A motherly female voice. "He looks pale. I feel as though he doesn't have much life left in him."_

_The burning hands left his face, leaving behind a freezing imprint._

_"What's going on?"_

_"Can't you see, Terezi?"_

_"I'm blind! You of all people should know, Vriska!"_

_A strong set of hands shook him. He could barely moan. "He's not responding."_

_Fingers came to his throat. Another voice, female and British. "His pulse is weak. We need to get him to the emergency room."_

_There was a sensation running through his entire body, like pins and needles. Perhaps he had sat in one position too long? He couldn't even remember. The world was so dark._

_He was vaguely aware he was being carried. It felt like flying. Like Peter Pan. He'd always wanted to be Peter Pan as a kid. Maybe he was actually flying._

_"Hang in there, bro!" a voice commanded. The voice he'd liked. "We're gonna get you some help."_

_That was the last thing he remembered._

. . . . .

Beep. Beep. Beep.

His eyes opened. White. It practically blinded him, forcing his eyes shut again. One eyes cracked open, then the other, allowing them both to adjust.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He turned over to his right, seeing monitors. So many monitors. Lights and numbers.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

There were tubes coming out of his arms. IVs. Something plastic up his nose pumping oxygen.

He looked around slowly, mind moving at a sluggish pace. The walls were still blinding white, as were the sheets around him. They were so warm, as were the pillows beneath him. So soft. So much softer than the concrete. He shifted slightly, hearing the unfamiliar crinkle of rough cloth. A blue gown.

_I'm in the hospital, _he thought to himself. _Why? How did I get here?_

He heard the sound of a door opening. He focused his attention to his left, barely having to turn since the door was practically in front of him. In came a man wearing a long white coat over a blue button up and plain black pants. Interestingly enough, he was wearing black velcro shoes, which kind of took away from his professional look. No doubt this was a doctor.

The doctor smiled as he took a clipboard from the door and flipped through the pages before turning his attention back to the young man in bed. "Good, you're awake. It seems like we go you in time. The others will be pleased to hear that."

"Ah, um…what?"

"I'm sorry. Too much information at once." He sat down in the chair by his bed, taking out a pen from the front jacket pocket.

"Could I have your name?" the doctor asked. When he didn't reply, the man sat down and smiled in an open and friendly way. "No need to worry. I'm Doctor Smith. Can you tell me your's?"

"Travis." It was barely audible; since when had his throat been so dry? He coughed and tried again. "Travis Raphael Martinez."

"Okay, Travis, you said?"

He nodded.

"Now Travis, do you have any questions for me?"

"Yeah. I mean yes, doctor. Sir. Um…" He felt his skin blotting in familiar embarrassment. "Um, where am I?"

"You're at the Providence Portland Medical Center."

"A-am I in…Oregon?"

"Yes you are."

"Oh, um, okay then. Um…why am I here? And how did I get here?"

Doctor Smith explained, "Well, you were brought in by a group of teenagers who looked about your age. I thought they were friends of your's at first, but they told me they found you on the street. We took you in immediately. And good thing too! You seem to be doing much better already. You were barely responsive when you came in."

Travis blushed. "I really don't remember anything. Just being cold…I was sitting on a curb. Then there were some voices, and I felt like I was floating. That's the last thing I remember."

He nodded and wrote the information down.

"Well then, Travis, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you a few basic questions, okay? Can you do that for me? For hospital records' sake?"

"I-I can try…"

"That's all I'm asking for."

Doctor Smith smiled, and Travis couldn't help but smile back. The man put him at ease.

"Your full name is Travis Raphael Martinez, correct?"

"Yes."

"How old are you."

"Fifteen. I'll be sixteen this May."

He scribbled this down on his clipboard. "Okay Travis, I'm going to need either an ID of some sort or your medical insurance information."

Travis didn't respond for a long moment, but when he did, his tone was sad. "I don't have any."

Doctor Smith looked up from his clipboard. "What was that?"

"I said I don't have any information. I left it at home."

"That's perfectly fine. We'll just need to call home and let your parents know that you're here-"

"Please don't!" The sudden outburst made the doctor jump in shock. He looked at Travis-just a boy, really-with his eyes filled with fear and unshed tears. "Please don't call them! I don't want to talk to them…"

"You ran away from home, didn't you?"

After a long, silent moment, he nodded.

Doctor Smith breathed. Seeing the situation, Travis was very lucky he'd been found, let alone taken to a hospital.

"How long ago did you leave home?"

"About two months, I think. I can't really remember…"

"Where are you from, originally?"

"Just outside of LA," he replied. That explained the lack of winter layers. "Um, can you tell me exactly what happened to me. I mean, when I got to the hospital. I, ah, got that some people found me and brought me here?"

"That's right. A group of teens, like I said. They came running in without any warning. One of them was carrying you."

Travis thought he remembered something like that, but it was too hazy. So he simply nodded instead.

Doctor Smith was checking all the machines and nodding.

"I can say that overall you've made a hell of a recovery so far, considering how bad of shape you came in. Dehydrated and malnourished, suffering from hypothermia, and we had you go through a decontaminating bath before surgery."

Travis blushed. So someone had bathed him too. No wonder he felt so clean.

And then the rest of the doctor's words caught up to him.

"Wait. Surgery?"

He hesitated. "I would rather not say now. You need time to adjust."

"What happened?" Travis asked, suddenly insistent. "Please tell me."

Doctor Smith sighed. "I guess there's no helping it. You'd find out sooner or later, and I was planning to tell you when the medication wore off a bit.

"Travis, when you were brought in, you had a high fever and you were barely breathing. Your vitals were weak. It didn't look good for you. A large part of it was because you had a very serious bacterial infection in both of your feet and calfs, probably from some untreated cuts that festered."

Travis thought back to a some odd days ago. He had ran through some abandoned scrapyard without shoes on, hadn't he? Was it from back then?

His attention was diverted back to the doctor, who was speaking still. "Once we got you out of the clothes, we were able to see the full extent of the damage."

Travis could feel his nonexistent stomach falling away. "How…h-how bad was it?"

"We tried to save at least one of your legs," was how it started, "but the infection was extensive and serious. Left for a few more hours and you would've died of blood poisoning if the hypothermia didn't take you first. We were lucky we could save everything from above the knees."

He allowed the words to sink in. Travis seemed to go blank for a few moments, unblinking and emotionless. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he breathed slowly.

"C-can I s-see them?"

Doctor Smith didn't need to ask what 'them' was referring to.

"I think it would be best you didn't see them right now. You've had enough to deal with today, and I don't want you to get overly stressed. Relax and try to get some sleep for now."

"Oh, o-okay."

The doctor looked over the machines, nodding.

"Well, I'm afraid there's not much else I can do at the moment. We've got you on some painkillers and anti-swelling medication through the IV. Any allergies or medication you're not allowed to take?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Great. I'll need you to take some antibiotics as well, to prevent the bacterial infection from spreading. Your fever's gone down a bit as well. I think you'll be fine. But we'll need you to stay here for a few more days and rest where we can keep an eye on you. Hospital protocol, you know."

"R-right."

Doctor Smith stood and stretched. "Well, I'm going to go tell the ladies and gentlemen who brought you in that you'll be okay."

Travis looked surprised. "They're still here?"

He nodded. "They've been waiting a few hours to make sure you'd be okay. Well, most of them. I think two or three of them went home. If you'd like, I could invite in the people who found you. But if you'd like some time alone to rest, that's perfectly fine."

"…"

"It's all up to you."

"…I'd like to meet them."

"Okay. I'll just warn you up front, there were eleven of them."

"That many?" Travis was shocked. "I only remember two voices. Well, two voices clearly. I heard at least five or six, I think. They were probably the first two I remember? One of them tripped over me, and the other offered me money for food or something."

The doctor patted his shoulder. "How about I ask for those two. If they know who you're talking about, I'll only send those two in for now. How's that?"

Travis nodded. "I would like that very much, thank you."

"Right kiddo, I'll go do that."

Once Doctor Smith left, Travis sighed and looked around the room more closely. There wasn't much to see: an empty bed, a bedside table with flowers on it, the machines, a window that had the blinds closed and curtains closed, and a few tacky pieces of art on the bare, white walls. The lights were dimmed, but still brighter than he'd like. But Travis could do nothing about that.

He dared to look down from his angle at where his legs were. Though it was hard to tell, they definitely looked shorter. He tried to move them, but to no avail. Travis's muscles were still tired, and the numbing pain killers made it all but impossible to feel any sensation below the waist.

Travis propped himself up with his elbows, surprised at the amount of exertion it took. He leaned back into the mound of pillows, letting out a slow breath. Perhaps that wasn't the best idea now. Perhaps he should just relax, just like the doctor said.

Speaking of which, there was a knock on the door. Travis forced his body into a sitting position. Doctor Smith peeked in.

"Travis? I found the two gentlemen who identified themselves with your description. Are you still in the mood to meet them?"

Though he was tired, he nodded. "I would like to, please."

He smiled, and vanished. Travis heard his voice from behind the door. "Okay boys, go ahead. Just remember that his memory is still hazy, so try not to overwhelm him. Also, can you make sure he takes these pills? They're antibiotics."

"Sure thing, doc."

Travis recognized that voice. It was the one that stood out clearly in his mind.

The first entered the room, holding a little paper Dixie cup in his hand that Travis assumed had the antibiotic pills in it. He was tall, probably six foot or taller, and that was him slumped slightly in the doorframe. His skin was a light tan, as though he would be darker if he'd been exposed to more sunlight. He had dark hair that came to his shoulders in a wavy/curly mess, just a shade of brown before black. The clothes he wore were all dark: black and royal purple, a symbol of some sort he didn't recognize on the front of his t-shirt.

His face, though, captured Travis's attention. There were three thin scars running from his left temple to the bottom of his right cheek, like long claw marks. They were slightly hidden by his flop of bangs, though, and weren't the most notable part of his thin, angular face. Those were his eyes. His eyes were a curious violet color, and seemed to be dull and vibrant all at the same time. Travis figured they were probably color contacts. That, or the medicine was really messing with his brain.

"Hi," he said simply.

The stranger grinned widely, expression literally more blinding that the overhead fluorescent lights. "You're alive! Thank God! Motherfuckin' miracle we got you in on time!"

Travis stared at him, confused. "Um…what?"

The guy frowned. "Do you not remember anything? Man, we were out and motherfuckin' clubbin' when we saw you come out of nowhere about to up and die on us! And I couldn't let that muthafuckin' happen, bro!"

If anything, Travis was more confused by that explanation.

"Um…I-I, uh…don't know what you're telling me?" he managed.

"Lay off, Gamzee," came a new voice from the back of the room by the door. "I doubt he's in the mood for your foul mouthedness."

Gamzee (it seemed that was the stranger's name) grinned over his shoulder. "What can I say? It's part of the motherfuckin' miracle of life!"

"Not that miracle bullshit you drag around with your stupid clown ass. You know what? I don't really care. Whatever you say!"

Travis directed his attention towards the voice. The speaker approached the bed and into the light where Travis could more clearly see him. The owner of the voice was another teen, probably around sixteen or seventeen, and probably about 5'6" or 5'7". He was slim and pale with an unruly amount of black hair, which looked to be dyed so. He wore all black, spare a splash of grey with the shirt peeking out from the collar of his hoodie. What shocked Travis was the color of his eyes. They were a deep blood red.

Said blood red eyes fixated on his own brown ones, a look somewhere between boredom and pity in them. "Poor fucker's probably up to his ears in confusing shit. Am I right?"

"Ah, um…?"

The boy rolled his eyes. "See, what'd I tell ya? Up to his ears in shit! Guess we should start with introductions then. I'm Karkat Vantas, and that douchfuck of a friend of mine is Gamzee Makara. Follow me so far?"

"Karkat and Gamzee."

Karkat nodded. "Good."

"I'm sorry for interrupting, but are those your, um, real names?"

"Pfft, of course not! What crazy fuckers would submit their children to lifelong ridicule over such stupid names? Which aren't stupid, because we chose them ourselves." He paused, thinking it over before brushing it off. "Doesn't matter. But naw, my real name's Carter. And Gamzee's is Garry, short for Gerald. His parents obviously weren't sane when they named him. But we've been going by these nicknames long enough that no one fucking calls us by our real names. None of us."

"'Us?'"

"Us two and the rest of our friends. Well, half of them are more like frenemies, and a couple I just downright hate, but I digress." Karkat stopped before glaring at his friend. "Gamzee! Weren't you supposed to give him his pills?"

"Oh, right. Forgot about that. Here you go, bro!"

"T-thanks."

Their hands brushed. The warmth jolted through Travis, causing him to drop the cup in his lap in shock. Gamzee smiled and picked it up without a care.

"Sorry about that, bro."

"T-that's fine…thank you."

Karkat rolled his eyes. "Clumsy fuckass."

Travis was starting to suspect that Karkat had the fouler mouth of the two.

Gamzee sat at the foot of his bed as he took the pills. He then automatically reached over to the pitcher Travis hadn't noticed on the bedside table and poured him water in the now empty Dixie cup.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

Travis forced the bitter pills down his throat with a long sip. He played with the rim of the empty cup, suddenly awkward again.

"So, um, are you two from Portland?"

"A little town called Glacia, about a hour and a half's drive east from. Place is boring as fuck! We come over to Portland from time to time when we feel the need for a bigger city setting," replied Karkat. "What about you? Where're you from?"

Travis hesitated. His hands froze momentarily. "Well, I was born in Mexico. My family moved here when I was still a baby, so I have no memories of it. I visited my grandpa a few times after that, but basically we lived around farmlands until my dad got a job as an auto technician just north of LA."

Gamzee patted him on the hand. "I forgot to ask. What's your name?"

"Uh, m-me? I'm Travis."

"Travis, huh? That doesn't sound very Mexican to me."

"It isn't. My parents wanted to name me 'Tauro,' but decided to give me a more American name so I would fit in more."

Suddenly Gamzee's face lit up. "'Tauro' like a bull?"

"Yeah…why are you aski-"

"When's your birthday?"

"Um, May 10th. Why?"

Gamzee's smile became even bigger, if possible. He turned to Karkat, who looked incredulous.

"He's a Taurus, best friend."

"Yeah, I fucking heard that! I can't believe it…"

"Motherfuckin' miracle!"

Travis looked even more confused. "What?"

Karkat looked back at the boy sitting up in the bed. "Nope! This is **not** happening tonight. Not while he's still fucking out of it. No point in pulling him in like this."

"We'll explain this some other time, bro," Gamzee promised, standing, "but we should be going home. It's a school night and all."

Travis looked confused. "Um…this may sound silly, but…um, what day of the week is it?"

"It's Sunday," Karkat said. "The last Sunday we've got before Christmas break. Well, it _was_ Sunday. Now it's probably like, fucking 2 AM on Monday."

"Oh, okay." He had lost track of time after all. "Um, thanks. And sorry for keeping you guys here."

Karkat's expression was definitely kinder. "Don't mention it."

"We wanted to make sure you were up and okay, bro. We'll come by in a few days, if we can," Gamzee said. "Gotta help a motherfucker out when he needs it."

"Um, thank you…"

The taller teen grabbed the cup out of Travis's hand and tossed it easily into the trash can by the door as he walked out. "See ya then, Tavros!"

"Tavros?"

Karkat groaned. "We'll explain some other time. Get some sleep. Don't you dare fucking die on us, got it?"

"O…kay?"

"Good."

And with that the door slammed shut behind them. Travis stared at the spot where the two teens had just been, confused. He decided not to dwell on it too long. Already the darkness of sleep was beginning to welcome him back, and he was more than willing to accept it.

Shutting his eyes, Travis let the wave of drug-induced tiredness wash over him as he fell into a dreamless slumber.

* * *

_Hi everyone, Peppered Potato here._

_So recently (thanks to all of my friends who finally got me to) I've begun to read Homestuck. I know, I know; what the hell did I get myself into? Anyhoo, since I'm pretty much toeing the line of the fandom, might as well commit and write a fic, eh? Since that's probably the only thing I can do here…_

_Just a note about how far I am. A few days ago I finished reading Act 5, so at this point there will be no post-scratch characters unless I find a way to merge them in. Also, I apologize if any characters are OOC due to my lack of knowledge of the fandom or me trying to merge them into a more socially acceptable situation._

_Also, Glacia is a made-up place. I've only ever been to Oregon once, so I can't say I've got any stereotypes down. Basically there's a lot of trees and mountains and rain, eh?_

_Thanks for reading. I'll probably try to update sometime this month._

_-PP_


	2. Recovery

_I, being an idiot, forgot to mention this last chapter. I do not own Homestuck, nor do I claim to do so. Also, Merry (day after) Christmas!_

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**2 - Recovery**

* * *

The next three days passed in a blur. Travis slept for most of it, waking up periodically to shift positions or use the bathroom.

The first time he had to go was the first time he'd seen his legs. Or what was left of them.

Doctor Smith has been very patient, explaining how everything was working. Travis had drains coming out of the stumps, which were still bandaged; they were to be taken out in a couple of days. He probably would be in a wheelchair until he was up to trying prosthetics, but it could take time considering he needed several weeks to heal and get used to the situation.

Travis had almost forgotten to go to the bathroom, staring at where his feet used to be. The shock was settling in.

"You'll need to go through some therapy to adjust. It'll start with simple stretches and massaging to keep your muscles loose and blood flowing through your legs," Doctor Smith explained. "The first steps also include getting in and out of a wheelchair. Do you want to try?"

"…I-I-I…" Somehow he couldn't find his voice.

He'd never been that strong. This was going to be new.

Travis had gotten help the first few times, seeing that he also had an IV in his arm, though they had taken away the breathing tube from the night before. He'd been told the IV would be out soon, since he was able to drink water again.

Overall, Dr. Smith has told Travis he was recovering well. After a day Travis was starting to eat solid food again. He'd actually had so much he ended up throwing up all over the sheets, much to his own embarrassment. No matter how many times the doctor and nurses assured him it was okay, Travis had stuttered apologies multiple times throughout the day.

The nurses were becoming more familiar with him. There was Denise, who always moved his legs so they stretched and made sure there were no infections. And Camille, who would bring his food and have conversations with him about her three toddlers (little triplets). Stan would check and adjust all the machines. He wasn't much of a talker, but he would smile and pat Travis on the head from time to time.

Travis was also given light dumbbells to start lifting with. His lack of arm muscles didn't help his new situation any. After three days with them, Travis felt no better; if anything, he felt weaker because of how self-conscious he got over not being able to do more than twenty reps an arm with five pounds. He'd always been the wimp of the family.

He'd been told a few times that the people who found him had come in or called the hospital, wondering how he was doing. Not one of those people was his family. Travis wasn't surprised. It had been a while since he'd left home; if anything, they'd given up on him. Besides, how would they have known he was in Portland? They probably figured LA if anywhere.

"People called?" he asked. "You mean the people who found me?"

"I've spoken to several of them!" the doctor exclaimed, laughing. "They seemed happy you're doing well."

"Really?" Travis didn't know how to feel about it. "I wish I knew who they were."

"Well, you met two of them."

"I barely remember it," he admitted.

Dr. Smith nodded. "That makes sense. We had you on some strong painkillers, and a lot of patients experience hazy memory while on it. Much more than now. We've been able to cut back greatly. It seems you have quite a high pain tolerance, Travis."

"It's probably because I was such a klutz as a kid. I would always fall and hurt something."

He didn't mention the bullying.

Doctor Smith had been more than kind to Travis, being there to talk when he wasn't busy doing whatever it was he did. All Travis knew about him (after asking Camille) was that he worked in pediatrics at the ER.

"He has more kindness to give than any other doctor here," she said. "Never mind that he really listens to what others have to say. I doubt he's had a bad day in his life!"

"Really?"

Camille smiled. "That's Smith for you. Watch, he'll bring some gifts for you, since you'll be here for at least another week."

Camille was right. The next day Travis received a few books from Doctor Smith. He suspected the doctor had gone out and gotten them during his lunch break.

"I wasn't sure if this was okay, but I figured it's better to have something," was all he said.

There were a few books that were obviously historical fiction, one of the Harry Potter series (book 4), two Charles Dickens novels, Heidi, a few comics and manga, and…

"Peter Pan?"

"I remember you mentioned something about liking it."

"It was my favorite book as a kid. Though I haven't read it in a long time." He ran a hand over the cover. "Thank you."

"Sure thing."

"I didn't realize I said stuff about it."

"I was trying to get you to relax while the anesthetics kicked in before surgery. You were telling me about Peter Pan, and asking if your brother was there."

Travis swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. "He would always read the book to me before bed. My oldest brother. He's an auto technician now."

"Is he?"

"Yeah." Travis opened the book. "I haven't spoken to him in a long time. He moved out of town when I was in seventh grade, and he hasn't called once since."

The doctor was silent, watching as Travis slowly began to read. The teen's shoulders relaxed, fingers tracing the edges of the pages as he turned through, breathing almost slowing into a trance-like state.

"Just let me know if you run out of reading material."

He chuckled a bit to himself, finding Travis already immersed in the pile of books surrounding him.

And so three days had passed like that: conversations with the nurses, daily check-ups and stretches, pumping iron, eating, and getting in and out of the chair. As uneventful as it was, Travis didn't mind. After almost two months on the streets, drama was the last thing he needed. The lack of it was appreciated.

. . . . .

It was during the evening on the third day that Travis found change. He was right at the scene where it was discovered Heidi was sleepwalking when there was a knock on the door. He closed his book as the doctor walked in.

"Hi Dr. Smith."

"Hello Travis. How are you doing?"

"Much better, thank you."

"I have some good new for you. You have some visitors."

Travis wasn't expecting that. He sat up a bit. "I do?"

The doctor smiled. "Yes. Those two young gentlemen who brought you in the other day."

"Oh!" He was happy to hear that. "I'd like to see them, please."

"Of course, kiddo. You boys can come in."

The two entered. Travis had to take a moment to think what their names were; with all the nurses running around he was having trouble keeping it all together.

"What is up, my motherfuckin' bro!"

At least he recognized the taller one's voice.

"Hi…um, hi."

The angry one frowned. "Don't tell me you forgot who we are!"

Travis blushed. "I'm sorry. I can't remember you names…"

"Our names? Wow, I guess you were really drugged up then." The guy shrugged, "I'm Karkat, he's Gamzee. Ring any bells?"

"Um, yeah. Thanks. How are you guys?"

"Livin' miracles!"

"Fine."

Gamzee bounded over to the bed. "Feelin' any better?"

"Yeah, a lot better, thank you." Travis noticed the plastic bag in the other's hand. "Um, what's that?"

"Oh this?" Gamzee looked at the bag and smiled, handing it over. "Here, bro. Some real food for a motherfucker on recovery road."

"I don't think I should, um, eat this. They're watching my diet and stuff here, right?" He didn't want to bring up the fact that anything heavier than plain pasta, steamed vegetables, and applesauce seemed to make him upchuck.

Karkat snorted. "Gamzee doesn't give a shit about rules like that."

"Besides, it's the best motherfuckin' street food in the world!"

"Not to mention we drove to the other side of town just for this because this fuckass wanted it. And parking in Portland is a fucking pain in the ass!"

Gamzee offered it again. "Here, it's Thai."

"Oh, um, thanks."

It did smell good. Travis, unable to resist, accepted the styrofoam container and complimentary chopsticks. "I've never had Thai food before."

"Never?"

He shook his head. "We usually had fast food, or whatever canned goods my mom could make into some decent Mexican food."

"Are you Mexican?"

"Yeah."

"That's awesome. Do you speak Mexican too?"

"Um-"

"It's Spanish, dumbass!"

Gamzee chuckled. "Fu-uck, totally forgot that. Forgive a bro?"

_Don't, _mouthed Karkat, shaking his head and making a slicing motion with his hand over his throat. Travis smiled, giving the other away. Gamzee just looked over, amused. "Really bro?"

"You're asking for it."

He turned back to Travis. "What say you? Should I be forgiven for being a ditzy motherfucker?"

Not liking the fact that he was put on the spot, the teen answered, "Um, sure."

Karkat's scowl was almost forgotten by the broad smile that illuminated Gamzee's face. Travis was starting to get comfortable around them, which was weird considering he usually shied away from strangers. He even wasn't bothered by the amount of 'fuck's dropped, despite coming from a family that frowned upon the use of any curse word, including 'crap.'

Karkat got his attention again.

"Hey Travis!"

"Did you say something?"

"I asked if you're going to eat the food or not."

"Oh, yes. Sorry."

He carefully balanced the container of his thighs and opened it. It did look good. Travis fumbled with the chopsticks clumsily before managing some chicken and rice. He took the bite, his eyes widening.

"Good?" Karkat asked.

He didn't reply, simply stuffing as much as his mouth could hold while comfortably chewing. Gamzee immediately reached for the empty cup and water pitcher on the bedside table as he had done the first day, filling it halfway and handing to Travis. The younger teen chugged it, barely stopping.

He laughed. "Easy, bro. Don't want you choking and stuff."

Travis nodded, taking several hurried breaths. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize how bad hospital food was until I had this."

"Pudding's not that bad, though," Ganzee mused.

"I guess not."

"Still, a motherfuckin' shame you're not all into food culture and shit. Terezi'd throw a fit."

Karkat laughed, though no smile graced his face. "As long as it smells good, she'll eat anything."

"Terezi?"

"A friend of ours. You'd like her. She's a bit of a sass muffin, but she gets things," replied Karkat.

Travis nodded. Seeing that the conversation had ended, he went back to eating the food before him. It didn't last five minutes with his sudden enthusiasm. When Travis finished, Gamzee just shook his head and grinned crookedly.

"Damn, bro, we're gonna have to take you out to eat some real food one of these days. Portland's got it all!"

Why Gamzee's grin was so contagious he didn't know, but Travis found himself smiling too. "I guess I'll, uh, take you up on that?"

"You betcha, bitchtits!"

"Watch your fucking mouth," Karkat mumbled, barely paying attention. He was glaring angrily at his phone, which had just made a text tone. Gamzee noticed and laughed.

"Sollux again?"

"Fuckass," he muttered and pocketed the device. "Going on about some new code he found and sent to me.

Noting Travis's confusion, Karkat explained, "For your information, Travis, our friend Sollux is an expert hacker. Well, good enough to shut down the school's security and not get caught."

"Oh, okay."

"Anyway, I heard you're recovering and stuff. That's good to hear."

Travis nodded. "It's only getting better. I should be released soon is what Doctor Smith was saying."

"That's awesome, bro!"

"I guess…"

"So," Gamzee asked, "do you have a place to go?"

The smile Travis was starting to build died almost instantaneously. He tried to be subtle about it, but both teens noticed it. They exchanged a glance.

"What's wrong?" Karkat asked finally.

"Nothing. It's just that my family…they don't know where I am. And I don't want to call them. I, uh, ran away from home. That's why I was on the streets."

They didn't say anything. Travis could feel tears prickling in the back of his eyes, which he blinked away furiously. He refused to cry in front of these strangers.

"What am I going to do?" he wondered out loud. "I have no money, no home, and it's not like my family had insurance. And now I can't even walk."

"I know what you should do."

Both Karkat and Travis stared at Gamzee, who had a very determined look on his face. The look eased into a casual smile.

"Were going to up and take you back to my place."

The Vantas was shocked. "You sure _that's_ a good idea?"

He shrugged. "Why not? There's more than enough room at my place, and my old man won't notice a few thousand fucking bucks vanishing out of thin air. He never has."

"But-"

"If it's about the legal shit, I don't motherfuckin' care. We'll figure it out as we go. For the meantime, we should get poor Tavbro out of this muthafuckin' hospital and into a place with real people and shit. Then he can meet everyone!"

"I'm not sure if this is a good idea…" Travis mumbled, once again ignored

"The doc said this bro is ready to leave in the next few days. He'll just be up and needing some good care for his legs and stuff."

The raven-hair scoffed. "Because you'd be any good at it!"

"Naw, bro, but I bet Kanaya or Aradia would be more than willing to help this poor motherfucker out. Even Terezi. And it's a good way to get to making some motherfuckin' friends in this neck of the woods. I'll troll them about it tonight." He looked at Travis. "What say you?"

Travis hesitated. He barely knew these people, let alone trust them with his life. And he didn't want to feel more in debt, considering Gamzee had just offered to pay for all the hospital fees. Yet there was something about him that put Travis so at ease...

"Well…" he replied, "it's not like I have anywhere to go, so…"

"It's settled, then!" Gamzee hugged him, which shocked Travis beyond belief. "We'll bring clothes tomorrow and get you out of this place!"

Karkat smacked Gamzee on the back of the head. "Lay off, Gamz. Jegus, you're probably scaring the living shit out of him, fuckass. He probably won't be released for another couple of days. You just said that."

"Did I really?"

"Idiot," he muttered. "Besides, it's 6. We should probably get going if we're ever going to finish that fucking Spanish project before tomorrow."

"Right, totally forgot about that!"

"Of course you did." Karkat sighed. "Sorry we have to go, Travis."

"No, don't be sorry. Thank you for coming out here to see me. You didn't have to."

Gamzee took the empty container from him. "We wanted to. No need to apologize for that!"

"And give me the keys! I don't trust you driving now that it's dark!"

"Sure thing, bro."

Once he handed over the laniard sticking out of his pocket (which Travis realized had clowns on it), Karkat flipped his phone open to the calendar.

"Let's see, today's Thursday, and we're pretty busy tomorrow, what with break ending and Vriska throwing another stupid party we have to attend. Plus, the truck isn't doing so well so I don't think we should be driving that fucker on the highway to see your sorry ass. No offense."

"Um, none taken?"

Gamzee piped in. "What about Monday? We'll be on break, and it's almost Christmas so no one'll bother leaving home with family coming in."

"I refuse to drive that piece of shit vehicle we share. Like I just fucking stated! And I bet there'll be traffic, and neither of us can drive through that shit."

"Kanaya? What about her? She's always willing to give us rides, especially since she's gotten her car."

Karkat thought for a few seconds. "You think she would?"

"She offered to take in Tavbro here when I brought it up at lunch yesterday."

"You brought it up to your friends?"

Travis didn't get an answer, but he already knew it.

"You have a point…" Red eyes took a sideways glance over at Travis before clapping his hands and nodding. "Right, that sounds like a plan. I'll send a text to Kanaya and see if she's down."

"Awesome!"

"Good. It's time to go, juggalo."

"Right. See ya in a few days, Tavbro!"

"Bye Gamzee. Bye Karkat."

The door swung open, then shut. There was silence for a moment, but then Gamzee stuck his head back in.

"I almost forgot. What's your favorite color?"

"M-my favorite color?"

The crazy-haired teen nodded.

"I guess, um…brown? Why?"

"No reason, though that is an motherfuckin' awesome color. Like chocolate. Bye!"

And with that the door closed again.

Travis laid back and stared at the ceiling for a few moments, deep in thought. He'd never had people be so friendly to him unless they were teachers or his family. In all honesty, he had no idea what to think of it. Was it pity?

He stared down at his stumps. Probably. At least it wasn't like they were seeing him in spite. They seemed pretty genuine.

Karkat and Gamzee.

Gamzee kept calling him "Tavbro." He'd never had a nickname either. It made him…happy? Travis wasn't sure. That was probably it.

He must've dozed off, because he was woken by Denise, who was shaking his shoulder lightly.

"Travis?"

"Mmm?"

"It's time to stretch your legs. I also brought dinner."

He rubbed his bleary eyes. "I'm not hungry. Gamzee and Karkat brought me food. I'm sorry. I wasn't sure if I was allowed to eat it or not."

"It was a bit of food. I'm sure it's not a big deal."

"Okay."

Travis felt his left leg being lifted. He closed his eyes and let the massage happen. Usually two or three times a day Denise would come in and do this. She explained how it helped, but he was too tired to reflect on it.

"They said they'd take me home," Travis murmured to no one in particular.

Denise heard him. "Really? Once you're allowed to be released?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"That's nice dear."

She was moving to the other leg now, giving it the same careful treatment. Travis liked that. He knew some people would rush through it, but not Denise. She treated it so professionally.

"All done," she said after a few minutes. "I'll be back tomorrow."

"Okay."

"Would you like me to turn off the light?"

"Yes please."

She did. "Goodnight, Travis."

"Goodnight."

And so it was decided that Travis would have a new home in a small town called Glacia an hour and a half's drive east of Portland. He didn't know of all the plans everyone had made for him, or what was in store, but for once there was a constant developing in life.

A place he would soon call home.

* * *

_So, chapter 2. Not much happening yet, I know. I'm no expert on hospitals, but I've had two major surgeries and both times I had an assorted large group of specialists going through everything about me. And I did watch "House M.D." and "E.R."at one point, so that's where I'm basing a lot of this off of._

_Next chapter: Tavros is leaving the hospital!_

_R&R (please), and Happy Holidays._

_-PP_


	3. New Home

**3 - New Home**

* * *

Before he knew it Monday was upon him. Travis was restless, flipping through his small collection of new books, then getting in and out of his wheelchair for no reason, then lifting his dumbbells for a while. Never had he been this anxious about anything. Not even running away from home.

Denise came in to help him stretch one last time, adjusting his compression socks at the same time. He had to wear them now that the drains were out.

"I briefed the people taking you in," she told Travis. "They know the basics when it comes to changing your bandages, but other than that I expect you to keep up with your stretches, got it?"

"Mm-hm."

She smiled and patted his legs. "I think you'll be fine. Just remember to come in for checkups every few weeks. Don't soak your legs until we say it's okay to. And call if anything changes."

"Okay. Thank you."

Camille also had a few goodbyes to say. She brought him his last hospital meal, complete with extra pudding.

"I had to go through hell and back for that," she joked with a wink.

Travis laughed. He would miss the staff here for sure. They were always in a jovial mood, even when he wasn't. Heck, even Stan (who didn't need to check on him as much after they'd lowered his medicine doses) would come in during his free time just to ask how he was faring. The amount of care they showed was more than Travis had expected in such a short time.

Stan had brought Travis a large paper bag in which he'd shoved all of his belongings. All of them were new things for him. It struck Travis that he would soon be in a place that was completely new to him in every way. The thought was kind of scary.

He didn't have long to dwell on that though for there was the knock. He sat up a bit. "Yes?"

"Hey Travis." Dr. Smith walked in, Gamzee and Karkat right behind him. "These two have already signed you out. We got written permission from Gerald's dad, so you're all clear."

Travis had almost forgotten Gamzee wasn't his real name.

"I can go, then?"

The doctor nodded.

"Ready?" Karkat asked.

Travis shrugged, suddenly nervous. "I guess so."

"Alright. Here." He shoved a plastic bag into Travis's lap. It was soft. "Before we go, though, you need to more presentable to the general public. Some clothes."

"Isn't what I'm wearing okay?"

"Do you _want_ to be seen in that?"

Travis looked down at himself. Karkat did have a point. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt and very loose basketball shorts, both he'd received from the hospital staff. Not to mention he hadn't showered every day. And his underwear were not in the best condition.

"I guess not…"

"Besides," Gamzee cut in, "it's pretty cold outside, especially compared to Cali. I mean, it's snowing like a miracle outside!"

"Oh! Right!" Travis turned to the doctor. "Do you mind if I change in the bathroom first? Before I go, I mean."

Dr. Smith smiled. "Of course you may."

"Thank you."

Gamzee pushed Travis's chair into the adjacent bathroom.

"I'll leave you to it, then. Just give me a holler if you need anything."

"Thank you."

The door closed behind him. Travis didn't bother to lock it. He felt safe knowing it was just the two teens and a doctor outside.

There was a mirror in the bathroom. It had been there since day one, but Travis hardly noticed it. Until today. He sat and stared at his reflection. Travis hadn't spent a lot of time in his life looking in mirrors; if anything he'd avoided them. Now he stared.

The person staring back didn't look like the Travis Martinez he remembered. Cheeks no longer as round as they were, cheekbones more prominent, eyes rimmed with darker colors, skin paler, hair starting to grow out again. The only thing that hadn't changed were the eyes themselves. They still seemed too big and too vacant.

Travis turned the chair away with a jerk and forced his gaze down to the bag in his lap. There was clothing in there, all of it smelling fresh like dryer sheets. It was a relieving breath of freshness after almost a week of the stale, chemical-y air of the hospital. Travis pulled it out so he could see.

There was a shirt that came to about mid-forearm, plain white with brown sleeves, along with a grey tank top. He slipped them both on with ease. There was also, strangely enough, a green bandana. Unsure how to wear it Travis tied it loosely around his neck.

A black pullover came with the entourage. It was soft and much warmer than anything he'd ever worn in his life. Travis pulled it on over his head, his mohawk getting mussed in the process. Popping his head out of the hood, he continued.

There was a pair of dark jeans and fresh cotton boxers. Great. Travis sighed and began to force his lower half to cooperate.

It took a few minutes, but Travis somehow managed to shimmy out of his shorts and into the new boxers. They came a few inches above where his legs ended. The sight was still something for him to get used to. Travis distracted himself by balling up the underwear and throwing them away. No point in keeping them.

The jeans were another story. Aside from the fact that they were too long, they were much tighter than anything Travis had ever owned before. It wasn't that they didn't fit. He'd never been one for a slimmer fit.

After struggling for a while, he was ready to give up.

"Great," he muttered under his breath.

There was a bang on the door. Travis jumped.

"You alive in there, fuckass?"

"Y-yes?"

A sigh. "What the hell's taking you so long?"

"Um…I was just, you know…changing."

Gamzee's voice now. "Is something wrong?"

"No, it's just…it's harder than I though."

"You need help, bro?"

He flushed scarlet. "Just with the pants…"

"Got it. I'm up and coming in there, so don't be alarmed, okay?"

"O-okay."

The door slid open just enough for the lanky teen to sidle in. Travis suddenly realized how awkward the whole situation was. He'd never been more underdressed in front of a non-family member in his life, aside from gym class.

Though he was embarrassed, Gamzee didn't seem to take any notice in the fact that Travis wasn't wearing pants. Instead he grabbed the jeans from the hips and straightened them out.

"Okay Tavbro, now I'm gonna need you to grab me around the neck so I can slip these on, alright?"

"O-okay!"

He did as he was told. Gamzee leaned down for a better angle.

"Okay, I'm gonna up and stand on the count of three. Ready?"

Travis nodded.

"One, two, three."

Gamzee was much stronger than Travis had expected. Though he himself could barely hang on, the other didn't even seem strained. He not only pulled Travis's pants up all the way, but he managed to hold the smaller teen up by the waist with a free one. The entire process took less than ten seconds, but it felt like an eternity to Travis. He was relieved when he was finally set down again.

"I'm sure you can zip yourself up there, bro," Gamzee said as he began to roll up the jeans.

Travis nodded. It took some time to get the useless legs of the jeans all the way up, but once it was done Gamzee nodded and began to wheel Travis towards the door. The younger couldn't help but notice all of the clothing was much tighter than anything he'd ever owned. All he had back home were hand-me-downs from his older brothers.

"Belt?"

"What?"

Gamzee pulled a belt out of the bag; Travis didn't realize there was one. "Think you need a belt?"

"Oh, no. I'm good."

It was coiled up and put back in the bag, which was hanging from one of the handles. Gamzee pulled Travis out backwards so the door wouldn't hit him. Even that little gesture made Travis feel a bit less…forgotten?

When they got out, Karkat was putting his phone back in his pocket.

"Kanaya just called. She picked up some coffee for everyone and pulled up front."

"Awesome!"

Dr. Smith stood up from the chair by the bed, holding Travis's big bag of belongings. "I'll walk you three to the main entrance then."

They left the room. Travis looked over his shoulder one last time to the now-vacant place, a place he had called home for a week, before the door closed. He then turned his attention back up to the hallway they were traveling down.

It looked like any generic hospital room from any generic hospital show. More white walls, closed doors, doctors in blue-green uniforms and white jackets, and even a janitor. A few greeted Dr. Smith and smiled at Travis. It seemed they knew who he was.

The elevator ride was short and silent. Down three floors and the chrome doors opened with a ding. The doctor lead the small party down to a small desk area near a waiting room. He stopped and turned towards them.

"Well then, here we are. The gateway to the free world."

Travis, despite his usually shy demeanor, accepted the hug that the doctor gave him.

"Be strong," he said. "You're a good kid, and you'll be fine."

"Thank you, doctor. For everything."

Their embrace broke and they exchanged smiles. "Sure thing, kiddo. You all take care now. Happy holidays."

"You too!"

Doctor Smith stood up. "Well boys, you know how to get out. Down the hall to your right, and keep walking until the end."

After a few more goodbyes, they left. Karkat was leading the way slightly, now holding the bag full of Travis's stuff, Gamzee pushing the younger teen's wheelchair. The hallway was abandoned except for them.

It suddenly hit Travis that he was truly leaving with two strangers he'd only met on two occasions, something completely irrational and overall stupid on his part. He didn't really know them. There was a part of him, the rational part in the back of his mind, telling him that this was a bad idea. The though wriggled through him and Travis found he was nervously picking at the sleeves of his new black hoodie.

"Did you guys choose this?" he asked, trying to start a conversation to keep his building fear in check.

"The clothes?" asked Gamzee. "Naw, that was my motherfuckin' sister."

"You have a sister?"

"She's not really our sister," Karkat cut in. "We just feel as though our friends are family. Most of us don't have siblings, so we're really close."

Travis was interested. "Do you have any siblings, Karkat?"

"Me? No."

"You do have a Kankri, though."

"Oh God. Don't you dare fucking mention him!"

The terrified expression on Karkat's face prompted Travis to ask, "Who's Kankri?"

Gamzee pointed a thumb at his friend. "His relative."

"Unfortunately. An older cousin. Sir Talk-A-Lot, I called him as a kid. Now it's Mr. I-Don't-Understand-How-You-Can-Talk-So-Fucking-Much! Fucking narcissist loves hearing his own damn voice." Karkat groaned. "Thank God he's in college."

Travis laughed a bit, causing Karkat to scowl.

"Not cool man. Do you know how bad freshman year sucked when he was a senior? All my teachers had _him_, and they all just fucking assumed I would be just like him! A talker! Me! No wonder everyone called him 'The Insufferable' behind his red sweater-clad back!"

"Really?"

Gamzee nodded.

"Yeah bro. One crazy motherfucker from what I remember. Like Karkat said, he's in college now." They exited the hospital. Gamzee was wheeling them towards the pick-up area. "What about you? You got any siblings?"

"Three older brothers and two older sisters."

"Damn! Big family. That must be fun!"

"I guess it was. I used to be close to them, because I was the baby of the family and all, but not anymore. They're all working now."

"Sounds lonely," Karkat noted. "Must've spent a lot of time out with friends."

Travis shrugged. He didn't feel like telling them he never had any close friends after elementary school.

They reached the end of the hallway, the automatic doors sliding open silently. The sudden cold hit Travis like a truck and he shivered violently. Gamzee noticed.

"Cold?"

"A bit." He looked around. "The snow is a new thing for me."

"It usually rains here," Karkat said. "Fucking depressing."

"Look," Gamzee said, pointing. "There's our ride."

Travis noticed a Toyota Prius sitting nearby. It was just under the roofed area of the pick-up area. Gamzee began to push Travis's chair towards it, Karkat following close behind, his cell phone in his hand again.

The person got out of the Prius. Travis was having trouble seeing her as only in high school, considering how mature she looked. Though it wasn't so much of how she looked, but how professionally and confidently she held herself.

The person in question had short black hair that swept out slightly in a neat, orderly short of way. Her skin was a deep brown and her lips jade green. She was wearing a three-quarter length red skirt and black turtleneck with knee-high leather boots and a simple jade pendant. She waved to the small party as they approached.

Gamzee leaned down by Travis's ear to speak over the slushy white pounding the roof. "This is our sis."

"Technically, we're friends, but I'm sure the boys have already explained it to you."

Travis nodded, shocked by the very British accent the woman before him spoke in. She smiled kindly, showing strong white teeth with slightly protruding canines.

"My name is Katherine Maryam, but most everyone calls me Kanaya. A pleasure to meet you…"

"Travis," he choked out, shaking her hand hastily.

"Hello, Travis." Kanaya stood up. "I suppose it would be easier if he sat in the front seat. Do you two mind?"

"Not at all, sister!"

Shrug. Angry texting.

The woman smiled. "Well then. Gamzee, could you help Travis into the car? I'll put his wheelchair in the trunk if you would take care of that. It folds down, right?"

"Sure thing, and yes it up and motherfuckin' does. Here Tavbro."

Travis allowed himself to be lifted by those arms again and gently placed into the passenger seat. He heard the car's trunk slam a few seconds later. Travis fastened his in seatbelt the others got in.

"I'm glad the clothing fit," Kanaya said to him. "Gamzee and Karkat said you were petit, but those two had very vague descriptions. Do you like it?"

He nodded.

"I'm glad."

Kanaya put the key in the ignition and start the car, pulling out. The quietness of the vehicle shocked him a bit; Travis had never been in an electric car before.

"Got our coffee, sister?" Gamzee asked.

"Ah yes. I'd almost forgotten. Here." She stopped at a stop sign and glanced down at the four paper cups in the cup holding cardboard. "One Caramel Brûlée latte."

"Thanks, sis!"

"One Peppermint Mocha cappuccino."

Karkat took the drink silently.

Kanaya turned to Travis. "I wasn't sure what you'd like, so I got you a Pumpkin Spice latte. I hope you don't mind."

"O-oh, n-not at all! Thanks you for getting me something."

Travis had never had Starbucks coffee in his life, though he'd seen many of the popular kids at his old school drinking some. It wasn't anything worth squandering money over in his life.

"What did you decide to taste test today, Kanaya?" Karkat asked.

"I purchased a hot chocolate. I felt the need to indulge a bit."

She took a sip before continuing to drive. Travis held his drink in his hands, allowing the heat to ease into his fingers. A shiver found its way down his spine.

"Are you warm enough?"

Travis realized the question was directed towards him. He shook his head slightly. "Sorry, I'm a b-bit chilly."

"Gamzee mentioned you were from California," she mused as she turned up the heat. "I'm sorry I didn't anticipate more. It's usually a bit warmer here. There's more winter wear at the home that you can wear later. Gloves, hats, scarves."

"T-thank you."

He found he was stuttering a lot in her presence. Kanaya wasn't intimidating, per say, just very adult-like and motherly. It made him nervous, and Travis wasn't exactly one to be overly confident when meeting new people.

After a few more silent minutes Kanaya merged onto the highway. "Which exit number was it again? Eight?"

"Seven, I think. I know it's labeled 'east' or something."

There was utmost silence as Kanaya drove all the way until she got off at the right exit heading east. It was only broken by the occasional sipping of coffee.

"So what brought you to Portland, Travis?"

Travis, who had been busy staring at the alien world of trees and mountains around him, swallowed. "I don't really want to talk about it."

Kanaya bit her lip slightly. "I'm sorry. That was quite insensitive of me."

"N-no! Don't be sorry!" He looked back down at his cup, flustered.

An awkward silence spread. No sounds except for the noise of passing cars and the quiet classical music on the radio.

Karkat was, unsurprisingly, the first to snap. "Augh! I can't take it anymore. It's too fucking silent in here! Plus, Sollux is being an ass. Can we please have a normal conversation like normal fucking people so this car ride isn't going to be as long and insufferable as it's beginning to fucking feel!"

"Can't even enjoy fifteen minutes of miracles, eh bro?"

"Fuck off!"

"Then what topics would you suggest we discuss, Karkat?" Kanaya asked, glancing into the rearview mirror at him.

"I dunno. Ask Travis."

Travis had no ideas, and ended up stuttering some before blushing and falling silent again. Karkat sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"How about this? Tell us a bit about yourself or something," he suggested.

"Yeah!" Gamzee agreed. "We could go in a circle, tell each other one fact about ourselves. It's like a motherfuckin' ice cracker!"

"Ice breaker. It's ice breaker, numbnuts."

"Yeah, that's what I meant."

"That seems like a good idea," mused Kanaya. "If that is okay with you."

"Um, sure, I guess."

"Excellent. I guess I'll start. Any topics we want to discuss?"

The angry teen shrugged. "Simple things. How about how old we are?"

Kanaya nodded. "I'm seventeen."

"Sixteen," said Karkat.

"Same."

"You're almost seventeen, fuckass!"

"Alright. What he said."

Travis smiled a bit at the exchange. "I'm fifteen."

"My turn!" Gamzee said enthusiastically. "Alright, favorite instrument!"

"Viola," said Kanaya.

After a moment of hesitation, Karkat muttered, "The piano, I guess. I suck ass at playing it, though."

"Guitar."

"I…I'm not sure. I guess I like drums?"

"Is that a fucking question?"

"Drums," Travis said a bit more decisively. "Should I think of something to ask?"

"Go for it, brother."

"Okay, um, favorite childhood books, or um, games? Maybe a pastime?"

Kanaya smiled at a fond memory. "I did love reading fairy tales, like the Brothers Grimm. And my mum would read me the stories written by Beatrice Potter when I was a child. A pastime? I did read a lot of books, and I was into drawing for a spell."

"I liked to run. Now it's a pain in the ass. I would go to the park and play with some of the other kids in the neighborhood. That's about it."

"I loved painting on the motherfuckin' walls. Colors are like motherfuckin' miracles for the eyes! I used to always have paint everywhere and anywhere I could with anything and everything. Like maple syrup and gravy. Might've dug in the toilet once!"

"Gross," Karkat stated. "Didn't need that fucking description."

"You already know this, best friend. Told you ages ago. Anyway, got colors up and all over everything too. My dad had me a separate room just so I could throw paint all over the walls." Gamzee laughed. "Shit man, those were the days!"

The company turned to Travis. "I loved Peter Pan. I still do. My oldest brother would always read it to me when I was a kid. He also got me into Pokémon. We would collect cards with our allowance and trade and have battles. He got me a Pikachu plush for my eleventh birthday."

A happy silence.

"What about now, everyone? For Travis's sake." Kanaya started. "For example, I still like to draw and I'm planning to go into fashion design. I also play the viola and cello."

"I'm not into much of anything. Just MMORPG's," Karkat stated with a shrug.

Gamzee's reply was vague. "Music and miracles."

Travis was slightly embarrassed when he admitted he was still into Pokémon, but never had a DS game.

"I really wanted Pokémon X or Y for the 3DS, but there's no way I can afford it."

Their conversations continued like that for the next forty-five minutes. Travis learned that Kanaya was originally from London and moved to the United States after primary school. She'd lived in New York state for five years before her mother, an interior designer and modeling photographer, decided to move from there to Oregon. The two lived in a flat in Glacia. Kanaya enjoyed orchestral music and would Skype a friend named Rose every day, who lived back in Rainbow Falls, NY.

Karkat lived with his dad, who apparently didn't get along with him. He didn't do much except for gaming and wasn't huge on the socializing thing either. His best friend was a girl they called "Terezi," who Travis had picked up was blind. Karkat's least favorite food was crab. He lived in Washington state for a time in middle school before coming back to Glacia freshman year. It was there where he met and was still in contact with a person his age named John, though Karkat's lifelong friend was Gamzee.

Gamzee was definitely the stranger out of the three. Capricious, that was the word for him. He didn't have much to say about his family aside from the fact that his dad "did business work in Washington DC" and that they did come from money. He seemed to like anything sweet, colorful, or musical. He would have occasional rapoffs with a guy named Dave from Texas, who the group had met through Rose as an Internet correspondent/friend. Gamzee liked slam poetry and singing, though he said he needed inspiration for both. And he was pretty good at cooking too.

All three were friends somehow through a larger group that consisted of eight others, who they'd promised Travis would meet eventually.

Before he knew it, Kanaya was pulling off from the highway and through a town. "We're about ten miles out from Glacia right now. This is the closest shopping centre near us. Do you want to stop and get anything?"

After a series on no's, she continued driving through the town until they turned into some back roads. They were quiet once more, but this quiet was much more comfortable. Travis took the moment to look out the window.

Trees. He'd never seen so much green in his life. Tall pines and cedars, bare oaks and maples, many others he couldn't identify. Moss seemed to cling to everything, despite the slushy layer of snow, which was still coming down from the heavy grey clouds. There were also some mountains in the distance. The car drove past a small sign that said "Welcome to Glacia."

Houses began to spring up, a few at first, but then more until they'd entered a cul-de-sac. Kanaya slowed down, turning left into a driveway practically hidden by trees. The only indication there even was one was a mailbox and a small lantern adorning an open gate.

"This is it, Tavbro," Gamzee said, leaning forward in his seat so he was next to Travis's ear. "I live here. And now so do you!"

The house came up as they rounded a bend. Travis's eyes widened a fraction.

It was a large two-story building, brick, with more windows than not. It was placed near the edge of a woods where a backyard could be seen. One of the windows on the second floor lead out to a balcony that overlooked the front yard, also surrounded by trees that hid the house from the main road.

Gamzee hopped out of the car and patted the back twice, signaling Kanaya to open the trunk. She did without question. Travis opened his door and unbuckled the seatbelt as Gamzee came back up with his wheelchair, bag of possessions slung on one of the handles. The older teen was holding an umbrella over them so it wouldn't get wet.

"Need help?"

"No, I'm fine."

He placed his now-empty Starbucks cup in the cup holder and pulled himself into the chair, landing awkwardly on his elbows until finally sitting up. Travis reached for his trash, but Kanaya just smiled and shook her head.

"You can leave your empty cup in here, but just this once!"

"Thanks for the ride, sis," Gamzee called.

"Of course."

Karkat got out. "No need to close your door, Travis. I'll sit up front now."

"Okay."

"Kanaya, can you drop me off as Terezi's? She texted me about something."

"Indeed." She looked amused. "Gamzee, I'll be back in about fifteen minutes to help everyone settle in. Will that be adequate?"

"Sure thing, sister."

"I'll see you soon then. You too, Travis."

He waved awkwardly. Karkat hopped into the passenger seat and slammed the door before the car pulled out of the driveway and out of sight. Gamzee balanced the umbrella over the wheelchair and began pushing him up to the mansion.

"Well, we have a spare bedroom downstairs. A few other motherfuckers and I put it together yesterday. There's not much, but I hope it'll be up and good for you."

"You did that for me? But you don't even know me?"

Gamzee shrugged, getting to the door and fumbling around his pockets for the key. "No problem. Think of it as a 'Welcome to Glacia' present. Besides, you seem like one chill motherfucker. Wouldn't want you up and back on the streets for a while now."

He grunted as he pushed Travis up the two stairs in front of the door. The moment they entered the house, Gamzee quickly punched in a security code by the main entrance.

"Forgot to do that once," he admitted with a chuckle. "Wasn't pretty."

The two were standing in a foyer; there was a foyer! There was a coat rack and an umbrella rack beside the door. Gamzee kicked off his shoes and put the folded umbrella away. He vanished down a the hallway to his right, leaving Travis sitting awkwardly. Somewhere in the distance a clock struck three.

Gamzee came back a minute later carrying a towel.

"Should probably dry off those motherfuckin' wheels of your's," he said casually. "Don't wanna leave any dirt tracks all over the place."

Travis felt pretty pathetic, unable to help much, though Gamzee insisted he was fine. After the job was done, Travis was lead down the hallway to the left. He glanced around, suddenly uneasy.

The house smelled…empty. Like too much clean and not enough lived-in. Everything around him was pristine: white walls with tasteful decorations, hardwood floors covered in Persian rugs, and not a soul in sight.

"We usually have a couple of cleaning peoples around, but my dad gave them off for the holiday," Gamzee explained.

He pushed the younger passed a few closed doors and an open one. Peering in, Travis could make out a library of some sort. They also passed a sitting room where several plush armchairs and a crackling fire gave a very inviting atmosphere. Travis didn't have much of a look as Gamzee suddenly turned him ninety degrees to the left and parked him in front of a door. It just happened to be the last door.

"This is where you'll be stayin' for the time being. Hope it works."

He opened the door. Once opened, Gamzee pushed Travis's wheelchair through the door. The teen looked around, gasping.

For starters, the room was large, larger than his family's living room in the apartment back in California. Half of it (the half closer to the door) was hardwood; the further side was covered in fluffy-looking carpet, an cubism-based mix of reds, oranges, yellows, and browns.

The walls on the hardwood half were white, and lined with shelves. Travis noticed they were several he could reach from a sitting position, as well some higher up. The carpeted side was tan with a dark red theme lining it unevenly. It took a moment, but Travis could make out the shape of cliffs.

There was a bed, covered in coffee brown sheets, matching pillowcases covering the pillows. Built around the bed was a wooden frame so he could lift himself up when getting on and off. Several lamps were set up around the room. There was even a small secretary desk with a cork board above it. The chair was even built so it wouldn't roll away.

But what impressed Travis the most was the panorama window on the furthest side opposite of the door and past the bed. It overlooked the woods (where it was currently beginning to rain rather than snow). A creek ran by, snaking through the trees and abundant green foliage like a silver ribbon. The window was shaped in a way that there was a ledge to sit on and look out, which was also piled high with pillows.

"You like it?" Gamzee asked.

"Wow…" he breathed. That was all he could manage.

The other chuckled. "Here. I can show you everything without having to push you around everywhere."

Gamzee wheeled Travis to the bed, where he parked the wheelchair. Travis hauled himself out carefully and onto the bed. It was definitely a nice one; not too hard, yet soft enough to be enticing. Then he turned to where Gamzee was standing and smiling.

"Well, this is your new room. It was the old master bedroom no one wanted to use. Both my dad and me got our rooms upstairs. But with stairs being a no for you, guess there was use for this place after all!

"I wasn't sure what you'd have and stuff, so we all built around what we though was practical. Some shelves and stuff, a desk, bed, even this couch here."

Travis hadn't noticed the couch initially. He did now that Gamzee was lounged on it and staring at him directly opposite of the bed. Some beanbag chairs were also scattered near the couch.

The Makara stood and walked towards the hardwood, crossing over and pointing to the various attractions to be found. "We got this desk and cork board from Sollux's basement, and the chair was sitting around someone's house collecting dust so that came too.

"The shelves were Terezi's idea. She's blind, so she's all about less clutter and more practically-ness, or whatever that motherfuckin' word was. She also suggested we do this!"

He waved his hand around towards the hooks on the back of the door and near the entrance. "Never thought having coat hangers on a door would be a good idea, but it makes sense.

"Oh! And if you check under the bed, we got some boxes to store all your compression bandages and whatever else those doctors were saying you needed."

Indeed they were there.

"There's an empty one too, if you ever decide on prosthetics. Just to be safe. I guess you can use it for whatever for now." Gamzee shrugged. "If you need anything else, like a computer or something, we can talk about it. Not a motherfuckin' problem at this point."

Travis was in shock. They would do that for him? For _him_?

"Kanaya had a great time designing all the color schemes and all. Miracle we were able to up and buy everything with all the crowded stores before the holidays. Took for-fucking-ever to complete this project, but damn it came out good! The only downer is that this room doesn't have a closet closet you can up and use easily. So we got you a bunch of drawers instead."

Noting the lack of reaction, Gamzee stopped talking. "Something wrong, bro?"

"All this…" he swallowed tightly, gesturing around, "for me?"

"Sure thing, Tavbro."

He could feel tears, and it wasn't something he wanted to have Gamzee see. "Why? Why do this?"

Gamzee, oblivious to Travis's tears, scratched the back of his head and shrugged while looking around the room. "I dunno. It felt like the right thing to do, and I just always up and trust my gut. It's lead me to more than one motherfuckin' miracle.

"I mean, I was following my gut when we were walking down the street we found you. Told them we should take a short-cut when Karkat up and tripped over your legs."

"Was it a short-cut?" Travis asked.

Gamzee laughed. "Nope. But it led us to you. And we got you to the hospital in time, which was more of a miracle than I could ask for. I feel like it was all meant to be, ya know."

"I think so," he murmured.

"And then when I heard you would be okay, after all the surgery scare…damn, that was something, bro. Never felt more relieved in my motherfuckin' life." He looked down at Travis and grinned. "Besides, you seem like one of those people who deserve another motherfucking chance."

He then blinked. "You okay, Tav?"

Travis sniffled a bit, rubbing his eyes. "Y-yeah. I'm fine. Just a bit overwhelmed, I guess."

"Well, you can take all the time in the world to settle in, if that's what you up and need. We'll give you some motherfuckin' space. No need to meet those brothers and sisters all up and at once."

Gamzee patted him on the shoulder. "Wanna see the bathroom?"

"O-okay. Sure."

Travis barely flinched when Gamzee helped him into his wheelchair and pointed to a door he'd initially assumed was a closet.

"You got your own bathroom. It's just in this door here." Gamzee took Travis to the closed door connecting his bedroom to the bathroom. "We had this altered to help with everything. There's a bar, and a seat, so you can shower. And the shower head comes off. We didn't have one that was on the side, so just left it all dangly like a motherfucker and stuff."

Travis had to admit this was much more lavish than he'd expected. The walls were cream tile, the floor white, and the tub an off-yellow. The lights gave an orange glow to the whole room.

"Didn't know what toothpaste or shampoos and shit you use, so it's just some unopened stuff we found." Gamzee shrugged absentmindedly. "If you want, we can go downtown today. Not much to see, but it can be pretty motherfuckin' fun to see a new place, right?"

Travis nodded.

"Oh, and if you need help getting in and out of the shower, I can do it for now. My old man suggested hiring someone, but since it's so close to the holidays we decided not to up and rush it for now."

"T-thanks you. I-I mean, thank you. Thanks. Anything that's gratitude. That didn't make sense. Oh, great, I'm rambling!"

Travis hid his blush. Gamzee chuckled.

"Aw, why say that? I thought it was pretty cute."

He tried not to dwell on the words. Thankfully, Travis's stomach chose that precise moment to growl noticeably, sparing him from the previous embarrassment. Though it did trigger a new one.

"Hungry, bro?"

"A bit…" he admitted.

Gamzee grinned. "Well then, why didn't you up and motherfuckin' say anything? We've got plenty of food in the kitchen! Anything your in the mood for."

"Something simple, I guess. I'm still not able to eat anything super heavy, so…"

"Sandwiches?"

Travis looked up and nodded. "That sounds good."

"Sweet! We've got some bread sitting around. And Kanaya'll be back in a few so we could make extra for her!"

Gamzee pushed Travis out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen, still talking with a crooked grin on his face. The younger couldn't help but smile a little at the Makara's enthusiasm. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all.

* * *

_A/N (long author's note is long):_

_Happy New Year!_

_This chapter is late because of reasons. Mostly I got grounded and lost all laptop privileges, and I was not about to try and update from my iPod. But this chapter came out way longer than I'd anticipated, so that is my apology for slow updates! Plus, school's been cancelled for shitty weather, so I've got time to write again!_

_I recently began reading Act 6 Act 5, so some the ancestors may find their way in (like Kankri, but they'll probably be only mentioned)._

_Since this story *was* moving in real time, I'm going to post a timeline at the end of each chapter so there's not confusion of when and where events are happening._

_12/15/13 - Tavros found in Portland, all the kids take him to the ER, meets Gamzee and Karkat  
12/19/13 - Gamzee and Karkat come back to visit, agreed that Tavros will be staying at Gamzee's house until further developments  
__12/23/13 - Kanaya drives the three to Glacia, Tavros moves in_

_Hope everyone liked this chapter and I'll try to post the next one soon!_

_-PP_


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